


Running on Empty (Kozik x OC/Reader)

by Sk8er_Chica



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Cooking, Couch Cuddles, Established Relationship, F/M, Grumpy Kozik, Making Out, Romance, Welcome Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 01:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sk8er_Chica/pseuds/Sk8er_Chica
Summary: Kozik returns from his latest run tired, starving, and just a little cranky. Inspired by a post on ImagineRedwood's Tumblr.





	Running on Empty (Kozik x OC/Reader)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImagineRedwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineRedwood/gifts).



You drop your gym bag in the laundry room after you come home from Lumpy's Gym. Your workout hadn't been quite the same without your old man holding the focus mitts; watching Kozik work himself into a sweat alongside you is always  _very_ motivating. You check your phone. He hasn't texted you since sending you a kissy-face emoji and "morning, sweetheart" earlier today. Not surprising; he's always pretty incommunicado when he's away on a run.

You sigh as you walk into the living room. You're lonely, but intent on not letting that spoil a rare weekend off from work. You turn on your wax warmer, already filled with your favorite cupcake scent. You pick a random book from the stack you checked out of the Charming library and settle yourself on the chaise part of your sectional. You set the TV to Hulu, choosing a show you've seen a hundred times for background noise.

You've always loved to read, so it doesn't take long for you to get comfortably lost in the story. Hell, you don’t realize anyone else has come in the house until Kozik has thrown himself on top of you, knocking all the air out of your lungs. The book flies over the back of the couch.

“Hermie!” Your voice is muffled by the 200+ pounds of blond biker across your body.

You squirm underneath him. You try your best to recall the grappling drills Kozik taught you in case you ever needed to escape from this position. (Though more often than not, that kind of training turned into foreplay).

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles.

In the process of trying to push himself up so you can breathe, he accidentally digs his elbow into your thigh.

“Ouch!” you yelp. “I know I have thick legs, but easy!”

“Sorry,” he repeats, this time with an apologetic grunt.

His weight eases off you and you take a few deep breaths; it doesn’t seem like Kozik crushed anything vital in your respiratory system. “I’m a little surprised to see you, but I guess that's what you were going for."

Kozik usually gets back from runs during the wee hours of the morning and texts you updates from the road on how close he is to home. In reply, Kozik shrugs one shoulder and grunts.

“How was the blood drive?” you ask, remembering Opie had said something about SAMCRO doing a benefit for Oakland Children’s Hospital.

(You know there was more to it than that; you're not as naïve as you look). Kozik grunts again.

“Did Happy give a pint of his own or just bring a bag of somebody else’s?”

Kozik doesn’t even chuckle, which isn’t like your happy-go-lucky old man.

You ask hesitantly, “Is everything okay? Did everybody get back in one piece?”

(Of course, you can’t imagine why he’d be here and not at chapel if something had happened to one of his brothers). Kozik's next grunt comes from somewhere deep in his chest. At this point, you're starting to get irritated with him for ignoring you while he flops around, pushing at your limbs.

“Herman, use your big-boy words," you tease.

His movements are dulled and rougher than he probably intends to be, leading you to conclude he isn’t acting like this because he’s horny.

“Seriously, what’s going on?" you ask. "Why won’t you talk to me about the run?”

By now, Kozik has coaxed you into a position he likes: between your drawn-up knees with his back against your chest.

“It was good, a’right?” he sounds annoyed.

He slides down to rest his head on your lap and closes his eyes. Your phone buzzes with a text: ‘ _Ur old man’s in a mood, little girl. :)'_

You don't recognize the number, but the signature is Happy’s.

‘ _Yeah, I noticed,’_ you reply.

You know Kozik hates going to Oakland, which is full of demons and temptation from his days as a junkie. He really doesn’t do the greatest job taking care of himself when he goes out of town to begin with. Kozik's clean-shaven and you can smell his shampoo, which means he's at least been showering. Whether he's eaten or slept recently is anybody's guess.

Happy texts back: ‘ _U need anything?’_

Other than patience?

‘ _Nope, but thanks,'_ you type back.

 _'K. U take care of him, little girl. :)_ _’_

Kozik mumbles something you can’t quite make out.

“Babe?” you prompt, softly rubbing your fingernails against his scalp.

“Can you…wake me up when the food is done?” he asks sleepily. "Need somethin' sweet."

He's obviously mistaken the smell from the wax warmer for actual cupcakes in the oven.

“I’ll have to start cooking first,” you say.

"Mmm-kay," he says, raising his head so you can walk to the kitchen. 

You check the refrigerator and cabinets to see what you have. One of the best things about your old man is he doesn’t care what you make as long as it’s food. He'll back to his old self after a good nap and a hot meal, but insufferable until that happens. You wish he was up for a date night at Bella Vella, Charming’s little mom-and-pop Italian place. Handmade garlic rolls, a steaming plate of pasta, a chunk of tiramisu to split…just the thought has your mouth watering and your stomach growling like crazy.

Fortunately, you have all the ingredients to satisfy your Italian craving with chicken Parmesan casserole. Frozen garlic bread can’t compare, but it’ll do in a pinch. There's even a pint of gelato in the freezer for dessert.

“Is it ready?” Kozik calls from the living room.

“No!” you call back.

You literally  _just_ put a pot of water on the stove to boil. You watch random YouTube videos on your phone, not completely trusting yourself to leave the pasta unattended. Gemma's given you some cooking lessons, but you're still no Martha Stewart. You eat a few handfuls from the bag of shredded cheese while you stir the noodles. Once they’re cooked and strained, you layer them in the casserole dish with pieces of chicken, cheese, and meat sauce. You dump the rest of the cheese on top of the pasta before sliding it into the oven next to the garlic bread.

When you return to the living room, Kozik is watching TV through half-lidded eyes, just barely holding himself up with his elbows. You squeeze behind him and he automatically puts his head back in your lap.

"I missed you, Herman," you say.

Kozik normally hates being addressed by his first name, but something about the way you say it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You start to run your fingers through his thick blond hair. Kozik makes a little humming noise in the back of his throat, almost like a purring cat. He might've fallen asleep if his stomach hadn’t picked that moment to imitate the dying shark at the end of _Jaws._

“Jesus Christ,” he complains. “Y/N, can you…” He gently taps your right leg with his knuckles.

Kozik likes the feeling of having pressure on his empty belly. Turning over would be the most logical thing to do right now, but that would involve him getting up. (Plus, you both get needy for the first day or two after being apart). He raises the hem of his T-shirt enough so that you’ll be skin-to-skin; you hook your calf over his waist.

“Thanks,” he sighs.

He turns his head to kiss your forearm, the only part of you he can reach at the moment.

"You're welcome, Hermie," you say, planting a kiss on top of his head. 

You feel the cool metal of his rings tracing up and down your shin, pausing whenever you stop rubbing his hair. The aroma of casserole starts to mingle with the vanilla from the cupcake wax. Kozik's stomach makes louder and more frequent complaints.

"Is it ready?" he asks hopefully.

"Not yet," you reply, putting a little more of your weight into the leg resting on his middle.

Kozik turns his attention to the TV for about two minutes before questioning, "Is the food done?"

"No."

Two minutes later, he says, "Is dinner--"

"No, it's not," you answer impatiently, your hips starting to ache from cuddling in this weird position. "And if this is what havin' a kid is like, we are  _never_ having sex without a condom."

"I'm sorry!" Your biker boyfriend is actually pouting. "I can't help it, baby. I'm so hungry." 

“I’m starving, too."

"I can tell," Kozik chuckles. "Your stomach sounds like my old Panhead."

A while later, you pause the show on Hulu so you can go check on the casserole. Kozik huffs when you have to push his head off your lap.

"Do you want dinner before midnight or not?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Midnight? I can't wait that long," he groans.

"I thought so." 

You head for the kitchen, thinking it's a minor miracle your legs aren't asleep. You open the oven. The cheese evenly coating the top of the casserole is bubbling. There are a few minutes left on the timer. You used precooked chicken, so taking it out now won't hurt. The garlic bread is golden-brown perfection. You bring sodas into the living room before returning with two plates of casserole and bread. 

Kozik shoves a steaming forkful of pasta into his mouth without flinching. He's pretty sure you'd lecture him if you knew this is the first food he's had in over two days. Oakland, with its specters of his old connections and no shortage of new people who would've gladly sold him heroin, had kept his stomach tied in nervous knots. He consciously knew he couldn't afford to fuck up, relapse, and risk losing you. But a small, insistent voice in the back of his head had told Kozik he wouldn't get hooked again if he just had one hit to help him sleep... 

Thank God for Happy Lowman. He had talked Kozik down off his ledge several times during the run. Happy had been an addict himself at one time and reminded Kozik of the benefits of sobriety. The Tacoma Killer had also made it painfully clear what he would do to Kozik if he turned back into "the strung-out fucking junkie" in his clubhouse mugshot. When words didn't work, he knocked sense into his brother by challenging him to boxing and arm-wrestling. Happy had even tried to teach Kozik some basic meditation, but Kozik had bluntly said he didn't believe in that "zen hippie bullshit."

You wondered why your old man looked so serious in between huge bites of dinner, but didn't ask. You work on your pieces of garlic bread while waiting for the casserole to cool off. Kozik says something through a huge mouthful that doesn't even sound like English. You take it as a compliment on your cooking. He dashes into the kitchen and comes back with a second chunk of casserole, which disappears in record time. 

After you both finish eating, Kozik washes the dishes without being asked. You get the pint of chocolate-chip gelato and two spoons. You sit shoulder-to-hip on the couch, playfully squabbling over the limited space for both spoons in the container. Later, Kozik tosses the empty container into the trash.

"Thanks for dinner, babe," he says, rejoining you on the couch and looking truly relaxed for the first time since he came home. "I feel a lot better now. But..."

"But what?" you ask.

"But I still need somethin' sweet," Kozik says slowly.

"Are you kidding?" you laugh. "You just ate about half a pint of gelato."

Kozik turns his head and smiles, his baby blues boring into you. A blush colors your cheeks as you realize what he's getting at. He puts a hand between the waistband of your gym shorts and your tummy.

"Oh, Y/N, I love the way your belly sticks out just a little when it's nice and full," Kozik says. "Let's give it a little more room, okay?"

You nod. You break out in goosebumps all over when he slides your shorts off, leaving you in just a T-shirt and panties.

"Yours needs to breathe, too," you say.

You unbuckle his belt and he takes it out of the loops. Kozik lets you unbutton his jeans. He lays you down, straddles you, and kisses you gently, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"I'll let your dinner settle a little first," Kozik whispers in your ear, putting a hand down the back of your panties. "Then I'm gonna take these off and show my baby girl how much I missed her. And how much I..." He kisses your lips again. "...love you."  

 


End file.
